Think Again (When You Stop Freaking Out)
by AnikaAnn
Summary: Steve Rogers thought that seeing aliens raining from the sky would be the craziest thing he had ever seen and nothing would top that. Matt Murdock, on the other hand, was pretty sure he would never see anything again – after all, he had been blind for the past two decades. Looks like they both need to think again. That is after they get over the fact that things got really messy.
1. Good morning, me?

**1\. Good morning,… me?**

Matt Murdock woke up with a startle and found out he was blind.

Now that wasn't a strange occurrence. Unfortunately, Matt had been waking up unable to see for the past two decades, ever since he had been in an accident involving messed up chemicals and an act of spontaneous heroism on his side. In return, he had gained extremely enhanced senses and with time, he had learned to use them to see.

Which was exactly what was wrong at the moment.

Matt woke up… _feeling_ blind.

The room he was in was strangely silent, no intrusive smells attacking his nostrils, no distinctive taste on his tongue, no extremely smooth sensation on his skin– gripping the sheets, he was very sure these weren't his silk ones, this was not how silk felt and yet, the sheets weren't scratching his skin so hard it would make him cry. Matt would think they were simple cotton, but this was _not_ how it supposed to feel.

And he fucking couldn't map the room as he couldn't pinpoint his radar sense; his world of fire lacked _fire_.

He snapped his eyes open, his breathing raged, sitting up with a jolt.

He was _not_ ready to the picture in front of him.

After all, this kind of picture only existed in his memories. This kind of picture had colours. Sharp edges, painfully so, as if every freaking atom had its place. Then again, Matt wouldn't be a good judge of the state of his eye-sight, he couldn't tell is it was 20/20, because he couldn't remember what it felt like.

What could tell and was hundred percent sure of, was that… yeah, he could definitely see.

It freaked the shit out of him.

Feeling the bile rising to his mouth, his body jumped up on instinct, taking a bee line to the bathroom. It was only after he emptied his stomach that he realized that he had no clue which bathroom it was and how he had known where to go.

-.-.-

Several blocks over, a man jolted awake, snapping his eyes open, only to be met with darkness.

He gasped, blinking, but there was nothing. His heart started hammering in his chest, a strange sensation vibrating through his ribcage, warmth spreading into his body with each thumb-thumb. A fraction of second later, the noise of the city assaulted his ears and hit him like a train – a train passing him by inches. He jumped back, hitting the wall behind him, quickly rolling over, falling off bed and shooting to his feet, his arms raised and fists curled up.

The noise didn't fade out, making him raise his hands to his ears.

There was a weak taste of mint toothpaste in his mouth, barely covering other strange tastes he couldn't quite place. His nose was itching with at least twenty different smells, mingling together and overwhelming his brain, easily causing him a headache. Not to mention his whole body was aching and he felt like every freaking cell of his body was alerting him on pain.

He thought the sweatpants he wore felt soft, yet there was an itch against his skin, as if they were made of the roughest fabric he ever felt. His balance was complete shit – the room around him pounded, the floor shaking with what he was sure was a subway train riding right under his feet and on top of all that, he was still in darkness, a strange darkness that felt somehow vibrant, flashes calling out for him

What the hell was happening?

 _Calm down, soldier. You know better than freak out. Deep breaths- oh god, so many smells, breathing in deeply was so_ _ **not**_ _a good idea- focus. Think of it as of a recon mission. In a very loud environment that resembles a battlefield, but those you know too._

 _Yeah, but going in_ _ **this**_ _blind is a bit unusual._

Three quick knocks – and he would swear he felt them echoing in his bones, his ears pretty much bleeding with that sound – snapped his mind from racing.

"Matthew, I swear to God, if you don't open the door, I'll—… use my own key," somewhat familiar voice threatened, apparently changing his mind in mid-sentence and offering a less violent solution.

It didn't matter. Because he was in some serious trouble. The voice was too loud, joined by cacophony of tens others whispering or yelling in his head, everything felt wrong, his head hurt and apparently, he was in some Matt's home.

He couldn't remember drinking last night, but he made himself a promise. Steve Rogers swore that he would not get within a ten feet distance to Thor's Asgardian liquor ever again.

-.-.-

Exiting the bathroom after a very long shower – and about an hour spend on the floor, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that the tiles didn't feel as hard as they should against his knees, his body feeling overall wrong, definitely not his, and oh yeah, he could fucking _see_ –, brushing his teeth for at least three times (why did the toothpaste taste so faintly again…?), and examining himself in the mirror – blond? He was blond now? – he went to examine the space he had woken up in.

The apartment was rather plain, but definitely belonged to a well-situated person, only if judging by the fact Matt found himself in at least thirtieth floor. During his freak-out, he had come to a bit unorthodox and, let's be honest, totally insane conclusion, that he had been in a body of someone else. A steroid-freak, by the way, because what the _hell_ , Matt was sure this amount of muscle tissue could not be natural, _what_ was the guy doing apart from drugs? So yeah, that was a thing.

The thing was, there wasn't much else to go on. He discovered an impressive closet, ranging from work-out clothes (wow, so many work-out outfits), comfortable homey sweats and t-shirts and hoodies (Matt's clothing of choice for now), to shirts and suits (not too many, which was strange, because again, _rich guy, clearly_ ).

In the nightstand, there were two sketchbooks (one extremely well worn) and Matt was no expert, but the drawings in it – mostly pretty random – were quite good. Huh. Rich. Freaky-ripped. Most likely on steroids. Handsome though. Artistic. Matt was surprised he didn't find a woman's (or man's, whatever) underwear lying around at least, because this guy could to be a playboy for sure.

 _This guy._ In whose body Matt was now, waking up, just like that.

He ran his hand down his face.

" _Good morning to me,"_ he murmured, not even startled by the stranger's voice which was – naturally – not his own.

"Good morning, Captain Rogers," a female voice with thick Irish accent sounded above him and Matt jumped back, immediately raising his fists to protect himself (not himself) from the intruder (who might actually live here, unlike him). He saw no one.

 _Saw no one. Hilarious, Murdock._

He squinted, looking around, which was something he was not used to goddammit, he was supposed to sense the person coming, but while he guessed his hearing was alright for an average person, he was definitely _not_ fine.

"May I be of any assistance?" the woman asked and Matt tilted his head in attempt to locate her better, which was perfectly useless.

What, was she invisible? Because that would be so fucking ironic he might even laugh. _Able to see after two decades and the first person I meet is invisible. Congratulation, Universe, you managed to fuck it up again._

"N-no," Matt tried out, hoping the weird… _thing?_ _Person?_ Would disappear and leave him alone to his inspection.

"Apologies, Sir. You seemed confused." _You have no idea._ "And you were sick. Shall I inform anyone about your-"

"No, thank you. I'll do it myself," he blurted out, not even caring it probably didn't sound very convincing.

"Understand, Sir."

Matt slightly shook his head, easing his fighting stance and allowing himself to breathe in. He didn't even know how he would fight. The self-awareness of his body, his ability to control the incredible mass was way too low, but hell, he would not have had a choice. And who knew, he might be able to pull out few moves, this body clearly remember something..

Because apparently, he was a captain. Captain Rogers. He thanked God he had a name now, at least. Now, if he would meet someone, he would at least know to turn around if someone addressed him.

It actually made sense, this guy being military. Retired maybe? Then again, he seemed _fast_ and _agile_ , which he would expect from an active soldier, but he wasn't exactly an expert.

He wondered for a brief moment if he should call Foggy, but he quickly dismissed the idea. Firstly, he only found a locked phone, which sucked, secondly, he still had no idea where he was, thirdly, he didn't want to put his friend in danger, and finally, he was aware that if someone called Foggy, claiming he was his best friend and business partner, but had woken up in the wrong body, Foggy would probably hang up anyway.

With a deep breath, he walked through the room, gathering courage to exit the relatively safe space. Gripping the handle – which cried under his determined hold, the material curving, what the hell, _steroids, seriously -_ he opened the door, feeling like Alice going down the rabbit hole.

" _Alright, Captain Rogers. Let's do some recon."_

-.-.-.-.-.-.-  
Notes:  
Wanted to write a body-swap for like… forever. So. Steve obsession. Matt obsession. And here we are.

I think swap Matt-Steve hasn't been written yet, so that's a plus, right? O:-) Let me know what you think ;)


	2. Recon mission

**2\. Recon mission**

It only took a minute for Matt to run into someone. The man was slightly shorter than himself – in this body anyway –, but was significantly smaller in built, olive skin and dark curls, wearing thin glasses. He gave Matt a brief, but warm smile.

It kinda freaked Matt out, but he tried not to let it show.

"Hey, Steve," he nodded in greeting and Matt's brain stopped.

 _Steve Rogers. Okay._ At least he knew 'his' full name, that should be helpful. Though an unpleasant suspicion had crept into his mind and he prayed he was wrong. Then again... did he? It wouldn't be such a bad option, would it? All things considered…

"You okay?"

Matt observed his face, unsure if he was wearing an expression of concern. Matt wasn't used to identify emotions on people's faces. He had heartbeats. Laughing. Breathing. Little noises. Hell, _sweating_ even. Now he had big fat nothing. He gulped.

"Uhm... no. I don't... I don't feel like myself," he admitted and now it definitely was concern on his friend's (?) face he was seeing, the man's brows furrowing.

"What do you mean? Tell me. It could be the effect of the artefact you retrieved yesterday, you're the only one who touched it without any barrier. How do you feel? Dizzy, or...?"

At that moment, Matt was pretty confident he had not been wrong with his suspicion.

Retreating artefacts. Possibly alien ones. Matt had no doubt now. Steve Rogers, build like a rock, living in a fancy skyscraper, retrieving artefacts. Possibly enhanced strength...

Oh yeah. He had woken up in Captain freakin' America's body.

Once the situation would be only a history – there had to be a way to reverse that strange Freaky Friday (thank you, Foggy) situation, right? – the story would never get old. Foggy would be so jealous, actually…

"Steve? Can you hear me?" a voice reached him and he quickly shook his head to get rid of the silly thoughts.

"Huh? Yeah, yeah. It feels like… like, uhm, like I am... in a wrong body."

 _Does that even make sense?_

 _No, it doesn't, none of this makes sense. Welcome to reality._

"Oh? Uh-oh. Does it feel too big?" the man asked, slightly horrified.

Matt grimaced. Well. That was one way to put it, he guessed. "That too."

"Huh. Do you remember being injected with the serum?"

"Uhm…" Matt hesitated. How the hell should he know?! Was this man talking about the experiment that made Steve Rogers a supersoldier or about something else? "...yes?"

"Oh boy. That's not very convincing. Do you know who I am?" the man asked slowly, and Matt thought he was being looked at like a science project now. He did not like that.

 _Science_. Matt wasn't very enchanted by the bunch of heroes that had saved them from an alien invasion since they had kinda failed to minimalize the damages – then again, those had been _aliens_ , for God's sake –, but he knew the basics. He had heard about the Hulk and he was ninety percent sure this man was him. But even if you tortured him at the moment, he would never be able to remember the big man's civilian name.

"Uhm. I-"

"Oh _Jesus_ , this is bad."

He hesitantly raised his hand, placing in on Matt's/Steve's arm, slowly enough for Matt to retrieve if he wanted. Matt decided to test the waters, letting the touch happen. He was almost surprised it wasn't as uncomfortable as he would expect. Then again, these two people were probably friends; apparently, he had adopted some of Steve Rogers' manners and muscle memory.

"Come on. Let's run some tests."

That did give Matt a pause, all of his alarms bells set off. _No probing, please_. "What kind of tests?"

"Oh, brain scans, blood tests and so on. I promise not to do anything you don't want me to. I swear I am a friend."

Matt gulped despite himself. _Well. Figures._

He still had no heartbeat to confirm that exclaim and reading faces not his forte. But 'his' body still wasn't on alert, so he crossed his fingers mentally and took leap of faith, forcing himself to relax. It could hardly get worse, right?

"Okay."

"Good. I call Tony too. It feels like we could use his help."

Matt was sure his eyes went wide. _Tony. Tony Stark?_

The premise of meeting the man was as terrifying as it was… _yeah, let's stick with terrifying for the moment. Maybe annoyance will come next._

-.-.-

The man threatening Steve to enter the apartment had not been kidding. He let himself in, his shoes shuffling against the floor (it sounded a bit as if someone scraped their nails on the chalkboard, the sound eased by a mild rustle of fabric and something soft – hair against shoulders?), perhaps as the man was looking around in a search of his friend.

Or partner?

It was hard to tell, but Steve had come to conclusion that this man did not pose any threat. In fact, he might think Steve was the dangerous one, because Steve was pretty sure there was no Matt in this apartment, while Steve himself – a stranger – was standing in the middle of it, seemingly invading someone's home. Not that he had any clue how he had got there or lost his sight. Temporarily, he hoped.

He really, really hoped with his whole heart.

"Matt?" the man's worried voice reached Steve's ears – scratch that, his soul, vibrating through his bones, what the _hell_ – quickly turning annoyed. "What the hell, man? You promised me to come earlier for Mr. Hanks' case! I had to run the whole meeting alone!"

Steve blinked uselessly, but cherished the piece of information. Alright. Hold on a second. Why did this man thought Steve was Matt? He had to, right? He didn't freak out when seeing Steve, acting as if he was the person this man came for. What…?

This was not happening. He had not been in someone else's body, right?! That would be insane!

 _Yeah, because nothing you lived through so far was, right? Like getting injected with a serum that earned you several pounds of muscles within seconds, fighting aliens, meeting the Hulk, a man in iron suit of armour, or surviving in the ice for seventy years… yeah, all totally normal._

Was switching bodies with someone a normal for him now?

Let's say the theory was somehow, impossibly true. Who was he at the moment? Who was the newcomer?

Maybe a business partner? He spoke of a case? A medical one? (Blind medical practitioner…? That seemed a bit off, then again, Steve had been a 90 pounds of a man when joining the army, so he would not be the ableist one, alright.) But… maybe a lawyer then? That could work somehow, right? And he had talked about a _meeting…_

"The sign has written Nelson and Murdock on it, you know? Not just- _ugh_!"

Nelson and Murdock. Great. Now who was who? And how should he react? Was this a usual situation for these two? Was it a common occurrence, Matthew not showing up at work?

"I'm... uh-"

"No, don't say it. You've been out, haven't you? What time did you go to bed? Three a.m.? Later? No, don't answer that either…" the man continued, exasperated, yet somehow caring. He started pacing – just like Steve's mind. _Out?_ Like… _partying?_ "Please, at least tell me you don't have your ribs broken or something…"

…what? Now Steve was perfectly at lost. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? Why would he have a broken rib? Though thinking about it, the pain he was feeling did resemble an aftermath of meeting someone's fists. Steve would give his money on being mugged; but this friend _assumed_ he might have been injured without Steve telling him he was in pain.

 _Why?_

A ridiculous thought of a fight club flashed through his mind and he cursed Clint for introducing him to the movie classic.

Then again… why not? Steve had to admit that he was shocked by the reaction his body had when waking up in a strange bed. His body didn't feel like his at all, but the grace he had steadied himself when rolling out of bed…

"Matt. Hey. You're with me? Oh no, do you have a concussion?" the man sounded concerned now, taking several steps towards Steve, reaching out his hand.

They didn't touch – and Steve wondered, how he could exactly tell that hand was close to him since he couldn't see it. Not to mention that with the arrival of the man, the rest of the world quieted a bit, Steve's senses focused on him. Strange. Not to mention Steve could hear a _heartbeat_ , but among all of the crazy things it seemed like a detail, truly.

"I'm... I'm not sure," he whispered, because he didn't want to break the spell of sudden silence – or at least relative silence.

"Oh _wow_. That's great, Matt, really. _Splendid_." Steve had a suspicion he had just messed up big time for the poor man in whose body he was now. "If you're admitting not knowing instead of denying it, there's something seriously wrong with you."

"I'm sorry?" Steve offered reluctantly. "I'm sorry."

"I'm starting to think ' _I'm sorry, Foggy,'_ is my name, considering how often you use it. Put a shirt on. Come on, I'll call Karen to hold the fort. We're going to the hospital."

"No!" Steve blurted out, alarmed. That did _not_ sound like a good idea.

The other man's heart – _Foggy's?_ – was pounding now.

"Murdock, I swear to god-"

 _Matthew Murdock._ Good, now he at least knew 'his' name. And that meant that the other man was _Foggy Nelson_. Steve stored that information for later.

"No, no, I mean... we should go to..." Steve hesitated only for a moment. He didn't have much of a choice, did he? He needed this man to help him. To help him to get help, because this whole situation was _not_ okay. "…to the Avengers Tower."

"Come again?"

For a split second, Steve wondered if he should come up with a reason believable for this man. He decided that no, that would not be a right thing to do. He should be telling the truth.

And when he was thinking about right things, he put figuring out what the whole broken ribs and concussion thing meant and how to prevent it from happening it again high on his priority list.

He cleared his throat, straightening himself. He probably still looked pathetic; it was like being small all over again. Helpless. And Steve hated it.

"Listen, I know this is gonna sound strange but... I'm not Matt."

The other man's heart literally stopped, scaring Steve to death.

"...just how bad the bad guys hit you?" the man asked, sounding as if someone was strangling him.

But the choked voice wasn't the weirdest thing to be honest. The words were. _The bad guys?_ If Steve didn't know better, he would think this man was talking to _him_ him now.

"Mr.-" Steve stopped himself, realizing they apparently called each other their first name and it might feel weird, " _Foggy_ , I know it sounds insane, but…" Screw it. There was no way to say this gently. He could even call him Mr. Nelson, dropping the charade he had been terrible at so far. "My name is Steve Rogers and-"

"Ouch! Low blow, Matty, you know he's my favourite Avenger!"

Steve's knee-jerk reaction was a shot of delight to his veins, the spark immediately fading. He was not Tony, for God's sake, to enjoy the genuine fan-out. He had bigger issues on hand.

"Really? Thank— _no_! I'm serious!"

Mr. Nelson sounded amused now, crossing his arms on his chest—and how did Steve know that again? He couldn't see!

"Sure you are. Ten points to Gryffindor for originality, buddy. Now, get dressed. We're going to the hospital."

Steve huffed, resisting the urge to throw his hands in the air in frustration. "Uhg. Okay."

Maybe he could convince Mr. Nelson later. Mission number one: get dressed. Yeah. That might be a problem. He barely navigated through the room. He didn't think he could do as much as put a shirt on. He swallowed awkwardly loudly.

"Get dressed... right. Could you maybe... please, help me?"

Steve would swear he could hear Mr. Nelson's eyebrow rose and he felt a blush creeping up his neck.

"Oh my god... this is just like college… huh, thinking about it, maybe you're just on a bender..." Mr. Nelson mumbled to himself, but for Steve's ears, it was as if he spoke full volume.

He couldn't help but smile at the new piece of information though; apparently, these two were _good friends,_ going a while back. Steve got lucky that Mr. Nelson had showed up. Maybe he could start resolving the injuries issue earlier than he had originally thought.


	3. The new level of crazy

**3\. The new level of crazy**

After a bit awkward process of dressing up, for which Steve kept apologizing profusely – ' _just stop apologizing, Murdock, I heard you the first time'_ – they managed to get to the street (which made Steve want to take a beeline back to the apartment, blind or not, because the assault on his senses was _brutal)_ and hailed a cab.

Steve dutifully recited the right address, not allowing Mr. Nelson to speak, only to be questioned by both Nelson – silently – and the cabbie.

"Are you sure? 'cause I'm pretty confident that it's the Aven-"

If Steve didn't know better, he would think he could hear the moment Matt's friend resigned.

"Yeah, he's sure. Don't you know it, even that kind of building needs to be ADA compliant and my friend here is going to test it, so if you would be so kind…" Mr. Nelson interjected, sounding a bit different than before and Steve wondered if this was his business voice or he was just losing his nerve. Either way, it probably worked.

Also, Steve was one hundred percent positive he heard Mr. Nelson's pulse falter, which was _impossible_ , but 'impossible' was just another Thursday for him.

His train of thoughts was cut off by a dialling tone from the lawyer's phone, soon followed by a female voice.

"Hey, Foggy! Did you reach him? Is he okay?" the woman asked, sounding a bit worried if Steve could take a guess.

A pang of guilt twisted his stomach for making her worry – and while Steve didn't feel good about it, he wouldn't have such a strong reaction, not normally. Weird. Maybe it was about the woman's and Matt's relationship and the body reacted on its own? This thing was getting stranger with each minute.

"Yeah, Karen. He's… I don't know what he is…" Nelson admitted with a twitch.

"What does that mean? Is he… is he hurt? You know, because he's… uhm… night activities?"

Steve blinked, his eyelashes brushing the lenses of his glasses – dark ones, he assumed, because Matt was blind –, glad no one could see how alarmed he was.

 _Night activities? What_ _ **kind**_ _of night activities?_ Steve would like to think they were talking about an… intimate way of spending nights, but he was sure he was not _that_ kind of sore. Blood rushed into his cheeks at thinking about the body he was occupying this way, but he needed to figure this out dammit!

How could a blind lawyer spend his nights in an unusual way, in a way that would get him hurt?

Steve's money would be on alcohol, but for some reason, he didn't believe it. There was just something about the way Foggy and Karen spoke about the topic that made him wonder and his hair stood on ends.

And unwittingly, his thoughts once again wandered to a movie he had been forced to watch recently, because it was a classic.

So, logically, his first question back in his role of (apparently) delusional Matt Murdock pretending to be Steve Rogers, after Mr. Nelson hang up, was: "Foggy, am I... am I in a fight club?"

"Are you in a— Matt, if this is a prank, you're really taking it too far," he hissed back, and ouch, _not a good question then_. And his heart started racing again – like, unhealthy fast, Steve thought.

"But-"

"Matt. Do you have amnesia? Do you even know who I am?"

"Foggy Nelson," Steve shot back immediately, happy he had stocked this information and could answer correctly without making the man beside him angry again.

"Yeah, okay. And who's that? How did we meet? What fruit or vegetable we are – yes, I know you insisted it was a fruit, but…?"

Steve just stared. Or, _not stared_ , but he would stare if he could, perfectly confused. Was this a twenty-first century thing? Did friends name themselves after a fruit or vegetable? That didn't make any sense, right? So, naturally, Steve asked the only questing that _did_ make sense.

"Uhm... is this a test?"

"YES, you duffus!"

"Look, I would really appreciate if you just took me to the Tower-" Steve gave up, only to be interrupted.

"Yeah and what are we gonna do? You have the sudden urge to reveal your identity to the world's mightiest heroes? Because if you do-"

"My identity?" Steve cried out, Nelson's hand covering his mouth right after to shush him.

What the _hell?_ What identity? Was Matt secretly a criminal, hiding behind an act of a lawyer? That wasn't right. Right?!

"Oh god... you need to stop talking, Matt."

Steve murmured against the other man's palm, trying not to think about everything he smelled on it.

"Keep the volume low, Murdock." Only then, the palm disappeared.

"I'm begging you, Mr. Nelson- _Foggy-_ "

"Okay. Okay. Let's say hi to the real Captain America," he muttered, sounding surprised, as if he couldn't believe what they were about to do. "This will not end well. It better get me an autograph at least."

The rest of the ride was quiet. Not in the actual sense of the word, because of all the noise that made Steve's/Matt's head hurt, but the point was, no one said another word.

Mr. Nelson paid for the cab and before Steve knew it, they were walking into the lobby of the Avengers' Tower, a walking cane in his hand again and hanging onto the other man's arm so he wouldn't walk into anything.

The lobby was nice; Steve had never appreciated it, but it must have been soundproof, because the noise of the city almost faded, which was something he was immensely grateful for.

They approached the reception desk, Mr. Nelson leaning onto the woman behind it before she could speak up.

"Good morning. There's no easy way to say this-" he lowered his voice to a whisper, "-alright. So, my friend here claims to be Captain America and he didn't escape the psych ward, I swear, and I know-"

The woman's heartbeat picked up, her perfume swirling the air as she spun on her chair for a phone. "Oh. I'll inform Mr. Stark. He needs someone to make his day."

"What? Really?"

Steve's lips twitched. He never thought Tony would actually ask his employees to take care of _making_ _his_ _day_. But yeah, it sounded like Tony.

"Mr. Stark, I am sorry to interrupt your work-"

" _Trust me, you're not interrupting, Kelly,"_ Tony's half-amused half-bone-tired voice replied to the speaker – Steve guessed he wasn't supposed to hear it, but with Matt's exceptional hearing, he had no trouble understanding. _"What's up?"_

"There are two gentlemen of which one claims to be Captain America, Sir."

There was a choking noise on the other end of the line.

" _You're joking. Send them to Banner's lab."_

"Will do, Mr. Stark. You can go up," she announced, smile in her voice.

Nelson's heart freaked out. "Uhm. Really? Okay. Alright. Matt, buddy, come on. Which way…?"

"You're weird."

Matt tilted his head at the voice, before he remembered he needed to look up to that person to actually see them and not to keep staring at his – well, Steve Rogers's – blood filling the vial; like a tenth one, by the way, this friend of Rogers' was sure thorough.

A man in a t-shirt and sweats walked in with his eyes glued to Matt while scratching his goatee. Matt's eyebrows shot up involuntarily at the casual look, so they both examined each other with curious eyes.

"Thanks, T-tony," Matt said finally, causing the man frown and look at the other scientist.

"Alright, Banner, what's the word? And don't repeat my diagnosis, that's nothing new."

 _Aha! Banner!_ Bruce Banner, Matt remembered. He _had_ heard the name before…

Mr. Stark went to some… flying pictures – _holograms_ ,Matt believed were called –, moving his hands so he could see the data, while Banner stood next to him.

"Not much to tell. My theory is that when he touched the package, it did something to his memories. He said that he— wait, how did you know who Tony was?" Doctor Banner spun to Matt, confused.

"Uhm… you said you would call Tony, so… I guessed we… knew each other."

"Huh. You guessed we know each other? So you had no clue who I am? Now that's insulting," Stark noted, scoffing. Matt fought the urge to roll his eyes at the diva. "Okay, so memories. What else?"

"He says he feels like he's in a wrong body. That it feels to big – well, he confirmed it when I offered the phrase."

"What about his brain scans?"

Matt tried to ignore the fact they started talking about him as if he wasn't in the room.

"Everything seems rather normal, except his brain is… working a lot."

"Now _that's_ a new one…"

"Hey!" Matt did jump to defend his/Captain' honour this time. His protest was thoroughly ignored.

"His cerebellum is going insane, which would make sense – if he doesn't feel right in his own body, he has to be putting a lot of effort in just walking or sitting upright. Also, it looks like the area of cortex for hearing and seeing is misbehaving. He's using it a lot. Do you have trouble with your hearing? Can you see clearly?"

Matt jumped when being talked to again. Well. _A little. I feel like I'm deaf and I can see quite clearly, if that can be described as 'trouble'._

"Uhm…" Matt fumbled with his fingers, which was an action that didn't escape Stark's notice, so he stopped.

"The body language is all wrong."

Matt gulped at Stark's note. _Yeah, no shit._

"Since when you're an expert on— no, don't answer. Just tell me what you mean."

"What I mean is... if his consciousness returned to the state _before_ _the serum_ , which I guess is your suspicion-"

"Yeah."

 _Huh_ , Matt thought. Now that was an interesting theory. But maybe he should just tell them? Sure, he had no idea how to explain them that he was somehow in someone else's body, didn't know how and why, but… they were the Avengers, for God's sake. Surely they were used to unexplainable…?

"Nervous ticks should stay the same, right? You think he adopted them after?" Stark questioned.

"Uhm, gentlemen-"

"Well, he might have adopted them later, don't you think? When I'm… the other guy, I'm not exactly-" Banner motioned with his hands vaguely and Matt just grimaced at being ignored again.

"Sure, but that's different, right?"

"Doctor Banner-"

"Well, he could always be just hammered, I mean, Thor's liquor…"

"Come on, Tony…" Doctor Banner questioned him with what could almost be called disgust, clearly annoyed – which was about the same state Matt was as he was being neglected completely.

"Mr. Stark!"

The man in question snapped his head Matt's direction, shock all over his face. "You never call me that."

"Well, that would make sense, we never met."

"You just said you guessed we knew each other," Stark remarked, confused but intrigued. Matt made a face. Yeah, about that… He cleared his throat.

"Yes. I changed my mind, because this leads nowhere. Firstly, if I could take a guess, my visual cortex is misbehaving, because I am legally blind for the past two decades-"

Bruce paced to Matt, his hand soothingly reaching out as if he was trying to stop _him_ from Hulking out. "Steve, what are you talking-"

"I'm not Steve."

There was a beat of silence, only intruded by their breaths and a mask of horror on the scientists' faces as they turned to each other.

"Split personality?" they asked each other simultaneously and Matt face-palmed at his own stupid move.

He rose to his feet. "Barely. My name is Matt Murdock-"

"Friday, run the name."

"-and I can tell with absolute certainty that I am in the wrong body. And if my assumptions are right-" Oh _shit_ , that totally slipped his mind, if he was in Steve Rogers' body, did that mean that- oh, oh _fuck_ , he was blind- "-then your friend is in mine and let me tell you, he's definitely freaking out."

Banner and Stark stared at him, speechless, disbelief all over their faces. The stunned silence was cut by _Friday_ ' _s_ voice.

"Matthew Michael Murdock born 3rd May 1982 in Metro General, Hell's Kitchen. His mother Margaret Grace Murdock, father Jonathan Murdock, also known as Battlin' Jack Murdock in the area. Matthew was orphaned at the age of ten, eight months after the accident in which he was blinded. He grew up-"

"-in Saint Agnes Orphanage, went to law school in Columbia and after an internship at Landman and Zack opened his own firm with Franklin or Foggy Percy Nelson of Nelson and Murdock, with a secretary Karen Page, who was their first client when being a murder suspect, cleared of all charges," Matt recited, mimicking the mechanical voice, more feeling than seeing the intense glares Stark and Banner were giving him.

"That… is all correct, Sir."

Matt fell silent, watching the two men expectantly, waiting for them to get their shit together. They might seem at least partly convinced, but that didn't mean they didn't look freaked out. So much for them being used to weird.

Tony Stark was the first to recover, raising a hand directed towards Matt. "Hold on. So you're able to see after like… twenty years."

"Yes."

"And you just what? Roll with it? I don't buy that."

Matt sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. "I did throw up as the first thing after I woke up."

"That's it true, Mr. Stark," Friday supplied helpfully and Matt was grateful for the voice for the first time. He smirked in Tony's direction.

"So… you're not Steve. Why didn't you tell us right away?"

"Wait, you actually believe him?" Stark blurted out, incredulous as Banner examined Matt from a whole new angle.

"What? It would explain everything. The visual cortex, his auditory functions – usually, you rely more on your hearing, don't you? I mean, you have to compensate somehow… the coordination – just imagine, Tony. Even if he would be tall and muscled, becoming a serum-boosted soldier is a whole new level-"

"Well, it doesn't explain how the hell that would happen! Tell us something lawyery," Tony challenged Matt and he couldn't but roll his eyes.

"Do I have to? Isn't it enough that your building is not ADA compliant? You don't even have braille in the elevators."

"They have an AI running them!" the billionaire cried out, wounded. Then he stopped as Matt grinned, realizing Tony just adjusted to his 'play'. He huffed. "I don't like him. He's sassy."

"Must be terrible, getting a taste of your own medicine," Banner remarked, the corners of his lips twitching. "But seriously. If you're in Steve's body, it does make sense for him to be in yours-"

"There _had_ to be a better way to phrase that. Thanks for the mental image, Banner."

The doctor just continued. "We need to find him. He really must be freaking out. I mean… freaking out on Steve's scale. He is accustomed to a certain level of crazy."

"I would think so, but you didn't believe me this was happening. Imagine him _living_ it. It is insane, trust me. I have no clue how-"

"Sir, the reception desk is calling you."

Stark blew a generous amount of air from his mouth in annoyance, still watching Matt, wary. "Put them through."

Matt only smiled in relief when there were visitors announced. And one of them claimed to be Captain America. Matt was sure Foggy was having a blast; and yeah, he would definitely had to take him to Josie's for a glass (or two) of shitty whiskey later.

Matt gulped when he realized that the 'later' might come much later then he would like. If ever.


	4. Following the breadcrumbs

**4\. Following the breadcrumbs**

When the two men entered the lab, it was one of the most surreal moments Matt had lived through. Which was saying a lot, considering he was wearing someone else's meat-suit momentarily.

Matt's attention was on both of them, his eyes flickering in between, unsure whom he should be observing first. The slightly chubby man in a beige suit and with long-ish hair must have been Foggy – Matt could immediately tell that, even when he was accustomed to _see_ him in a completely different way.

Seeing the other man though… that was something else. If there wasn't for the glasses and cane, he wouldn't be able to recognize himself. Not thirty-year-old himself anyway. His hair had a red reflexion under the lab lights, only emphasized by the red shade of his lenses, dark stubble covering his jaw. He knew he was athletic, but seeing himself in the shirt was just _different._ Matt stared wordlessly, tilting his head as he was trying to connect the two pictures of himself in his mind, while _Matt Murdock's_ hand went to scratch the back of his neck.

"Alright, now I believe you. Cap, you wouldn't allow yourself stare like that, plus that tick is definitely yours. Don't you think, Banner?"

Matt's gaze shifted back to Foggy, seeing his awe-struck expression – it was an incredible picture, seeing his friend, and he almost felt tears in his eyes. He smiled at his friend.

"Hey, Foggy."

Foggy's eyes went wide. "Oh god, Captain America knows my name! Wait, _how_ do you know my name?!"

"We're best friends, Fog," Matt chuckled, making his way to him slowly. "Or I like to think so."

At that, captain's lips – well, Matt's body's lips anyway – curled up in a smile, the movement fascinating Matt. "Would you happen to call yourself a fruit? Hey, Tony. Bruce."

Matt snickered, ignoring the puzzled looks of everyone else, the shock all over Tony's and Bruce's faces. "Oh, so he's admitting that avocado is a fruit now?"

"Oh my god! Holy shit! You're— you're really- and you're-"

"Yeah."

"And you're-" Foggy turned to Captain America's wearing Matt's body with an expression of pure horror and the man just smiled.

"Yeah."

"How?! Oh shit, this is awkward. I fan-boyed!"

Matt burst out laughing, shutting up when seeing Foggy's wounded glare.

Rogers' hand went approximately to Foggy's arm. "It was nice, actually. I can give you an autograph."

"Someone kill me know."

"Nah, you seem like a funny guy. Though I'm not sure I can forgive you for fan-boying over Capsicle and not me," Tony exclaimed, walking to their little group. "Nelson, I presume?"

"Holy crap, Tony Stark knows my name too!"

A satisfied smirk appeared on Tony's face, when he was addressed with proper amount amazement.

"Yes, and that's Doctor Banner right there. Thanks for bringing him here, Foggy. Uhm… Captain Rogers?" Matt shuffled towards the man occupying his body and the man in question turned to him fully. "It's nice to meet you."

The captain extended his hand to shake and Matt accepted it with a smile, only to see him grimace.

"You're crushing my hand. I mean, your hand. My hand is crushing your hand. Basically."

Matt quickly let go, realizing that when he had been aiming for a firm grip, he might have failed and had gone with a bone-crushing squeeze.

"Sorry."

"It's okay and it's nice to meet you. Believe me, I know the struggle. Speaking of which, how on Earth do you live with all the… things?" the supersoldier asked rather delicately and Matt's heart positively stopped.

Shit. _Fuck_. That was a part he hadn't considered. Steve Rogers wasn't only stuck with _blind_. He was also stuck with _supersenses._ Fucking shit _._

He cleared his throat, shrugging, deciding to ignore the matter for the time being.

"This is insane. Mr. Stark, Doctor Banner… do you have any idea how to fix this?" Foggy interjected, sounding uneasy and Matt assumed he must have realized a whole new set of problems that the body-exchange could bring.

God, Matt hoped Foggy hadn't said anything incriminating so far. Judging by his pale face, it might be a fool's hope.

"Well. It would be helpful to know how this happened in the first place."

Matt had to admit that Bruce wasn't wrong.

Which didn't mean Matt was happy to share any activity that might have led to this.

-.-.-

"So… you touched some… alien artefact and the next thing you know, you wake up in Matt's body? Okay, _ouch_ , that was not the best choice of words," Mr. Nelson – Foggy, as he insisted – summed up and Steve just nodded, while the sudden swish of air told him Tony gestured wildly, whispering to Bruce _'I told you it sounds weird'._

"Mostly. It didn't take effect immediately. We returned to the Tower, I went to bed. Then I woke up somewhere else."

"Matt? What about you?"

Steve heard the other man gulp, a shuffling of skin against skin as if he rubbed his palms or something. His strong heartbeat – well, Steve's really – sped up.

"I went to bed and woke up in a different one," the man said, sounding honest. Then again, it might have been force of a habit; Steve usually was honest and Matt was speaking in his voice, so…

"Okay, hotshot. Anything strange happening that day? Touched something you shouldn't have?... _That_ sounded weird too," Tony noted then and Steve thought he might have made a disgusted face.

Matt's heartbeat was going crazy now. "Not that I know of."

Steve narrowed his eyes, sensing there was something he wasn't telling them. And if there was something he wasn't telling them willingly-

"Well, why don't you just try to touch the artefact again? That could work, right?" Foggy offered cheerily, too quickly.

All alarm bells were set off in Steve's head. Why was Foggy trying to shift their attention to something else? Was he protecting a secret? Maybe the one that led to Matt being beat up? Had Steve and Matt got their hands on a similar artefact? Was that even possible? How?

"Matt. Did you… did you do anything strange in the past few days?" Steve asked calmly, causing the man tense completely; both his and Foggy's pulse raced.

"I-"

"And maybe it had something to do with the fact I feel like I took some serious beating? I'm ninety-percent sure my rib is cracked and the headache I have is not exactly pleasant. Not to mention Foggy said something about revealing your identity-"

"Foggy!" Matt cried out, clearly outraged, throwing his hands in the air.

"What?! You were acting weird! You act weird when you have a concussion!"

"Exactly how many times that you know of he had a concussion that you can tell that?" Steve asked incredulously, suddenly towering above them all despite not being the tallest one in the room. It was the persona of the war hero that gave that impression.

"More than I can count."

"Fog-"

"Alright, cool it, guys. What are we missing? Steve, what are you talking about?" Tony interjected, turning to Steve. "Cap?"

"I'm sure you heard me, Tony-" The realization dawned to Steve and he wanted to slap himself for not figuring it out sooner. He turned to Matt, shocked. "You have abilities. The… the hearing you have, the smell, the touch, _everything,_ it's… Matt, what is all this? What exactly it is you do at night?"

"Whoa, what?" Tony burst out, while Foggy and Matt seemed to be ready to get a heart-attack, their body-temperature rising.

"Captain Rogers, I… I'd like to talk to Fog— no, you're gonna hear me anyway, never mind…"

Steve's eyebrow rose at Matt's note.

"Are you… are your other senses enhanced since you're blind?" Bruce pried, not unkindly. Patiently. It dawned to Steve maybe he should have been gentler as well, but the secrecy was bugging him, especially when it was giving him the idea of something very shady happening here.

"It's not just that. It's his body reactions," Steve added carefully, feeling everyone's gaze shift to him.

Matt Murdock sighed and it sounded as if he ran his hand down his face. "Well, I guess there's no point of denying it…"

"Deny what exactly?" Tony demanded, impatient. _Yeah, deny what?_

"Try to hit him."

"I beg your pardon?" Tony asked while Foggy just cried out: "Matt! You can't just ask people to hit Captain America!"

"Take off the glasses, please. And it's my body, isn't it?" Matt noted wryly and as Steve obeyed with a perfectly confused expression, Matt went for it by himself.

Steve easily deflected the fist on instinct, following by a punch of his own, hitting Matt square in his jaw, gasping at both the automatic reaction and the sharp pain shooting through his hand.

Oh and at the fact that he actually hit something – very precisely despite the fact he shouldn't have known where Matt was.

The action was followed by several shocked exhales.

"Okay, I didn't see that coming," Matt hummed, rubbing his jaw, while Steve tried to keep a straight face despite his hand hurting like son of a bitch.

" _What the fuck just happened?"_ Tony asked the obvious question, breaking the stunned silence that followed Matt note.

"Dude, your hand just punched Captain America. Are you gonna get arrested?"

"You tell me, Foggy."

"What the fuck just happened?!" Tony turned the volume of his voice up and accompanied the question with a broad gesture. "How did you do that?"

If Steve could see now, he would be staring at his aka Matt's hands in complete shock.

Oh, _excellent question_ , by the way.

"Easily, Mr. Stark. I'm Daredevil."

-.-.-.-.-  
Notes:  
Thank you for the lovely reviews. They mean a world to me


	5. Fix it

**5\. Fix it**

"You're Daredevil."

"Yes," Matt repeated for the fourth time, slightly annoyed at Stark asking him that question over and over.

"That guy running around Manhattan in fetish gear of Satan?"

"It's not-" "Yes," Foggy said at the same time and it would be hilarious if Matt wasn't double offended at his friend sharing the billionaire's opinion. Surely the suit of armour wasn't that bad? It protected him! …better than the old one, anyway.

"Who's Daredevil?" Steve asked in Matt's voice and it was just ridiculous, the man himself asking the question.

"Well, I would say _you_ are now," Tony sassed the captain and earned what looked like 'I'm so done with you' glare in return. Matt tried to ignore the expressiveness of his own blind eyes, but it was really hard. "He's a vigilante operating in Hell's Kitchen, wearing a kinky costume of the Devil. He's formerly known as the Devil of Hell's Kitchen."

"And why am I only learning about him now?"

Matt gulped at the irritated tone, not happy at making Steve angry. Then again, he couldn't say he wasn't grateful for some of the Avengers not knowing about his alter ego activities. It was a pleasant surprise.

"Because you're wearing his meat-suit."

"Tony, I swear to God-"

"Blasphemy," Matt blurted out on instinct.

Bruce chuckled. "Oh, that is precious."

"What is?" Foggy wondered, asking the question Matt wanted to.

"Ah, Steve is known for-"

"Don't you dare-" Steve warned him, in vain of course.

"-not being a fan of foul language. He once scolded Tony when he said 'Shit' during a mission. It was hilarious," Bruce supplied helpfully, causing Steve groan. Matt's lips twitched.

"Cool. Now when we have the whole secrecy thing out of the way, can we please focus on the fact these two are not themselves? I'd like my friend back," Foggy grumbled, crossing his arms on his chest.

The bluntness made Matt smile; until he realized that the process of returning to his own body might be harder than it-… nope, it actually _did_ look pretty complicated, it couldn't possibly get more difficult. He sighed and mirrored Foggy's posture.

"Oh, so we're not talking about the fact that the blind dude claims to be a ninja? " Tony Stark asked wryly, turning his palms towards the ceiling. "How the hell is he doing all the parkour shit? The punching? You know, everything?"

"Captain Rogers said it. Enhanced senses. I navigate like that. It's very far from being able to see, but clearly it works. Can we please move on?" Matt answered, half-annoyed, half-irritated.

This was exactly what he hadn't wanted to happen. He hated the fact itself that the Avengers knew who he was, let alone dealing with ableist comments and scientific questions.

 _No, thank you. I'll walk myself out._

"Of course. We have bigger issues at hand," the captain came to the rescue unexpectedly. Matt didn't care why, if it was impatience, compassion, pity, or some weird sense of understanding; he was just grateful.

"Hey! I want to-"

"Thank you. Two nights back, I busted an arms deal," Matt announced, cutting Stark off.

"I read about that," he noted, not impressed, while Steve hummed in appreciation.

"Yeah. Well, there was one strange box. When I opened it and touched the thing inside, it disappeared. Just… vaporized, into thin air. My best guess? That's-"

"-the source," Steve finished. "And it just _disappeared?"_

"Well, I couldn't _see_ anything, but… I couldn't touch it again, sense it anyhow. It was just gone."

"That's kinda weird. Why didn't you tell me that?" Foggy demanded, sounding wounded.

Matt gave him a look that spoke thousands of words he hoped. "You never want to hear about that."

Foggy only thought for a second before pouting. "That's… not wrong. Okay, fair, moving on."

"It's the same night we picked up the signal for the first time and it only has been growing stronger, leading us straight to the artefact," Bruce stated, clearly only for Matt's and Foggy's sake.

Well. That was not concerning at all.

"So…?" Foggy pried, not sure what it meant. Matt was glad he didn't have to be the one to ask.

"Well, we can try what you've suggested. We can touch it again – we still have it here, the thing I touched at least," Steve announced with a shrug.

Matt gulped. He had a feeling it couldn't be that easy.

He wasn't wrong.

He sensed the phantom of the energy he had felt that night radiating from the item, almost afraid to touch the artefact so it wouldn't blow up, but when he did, nothing happened. Neither when Steve tried. They touched it at the same time even, but it did nothing.

"Great. Now what?" Tony demanded, slightly irritated.

The answer came in a form of a thunder.

-.-.-

Back in his mind, Steve was aware that Thor arrived. But the rest of his body didn't like the sound of it – the terrible noise rattled in his bones, his ears feeling like they might actually bleed. The usually subtle tremble of the walls almost knocked him off balance and his palms went to cover his ears. He subconsciously crouched, a brief memory of being in a battlefield washing over him.

A split second later, the vibrations stopped. While Steve could still feel and hear the echo, he forced himself to breathe and listen in, knowing that the more he would let in, the faster he would calm down; the easier the reality would reach him.

 _It's just Thor. A friend._

"What on Earth was _that?!"_ Foggy complained and with slight amusement Steve couldn't really indulge, the captain found him by Tony Stark's side as if he was seeking protection.

"That would be Thor," Bruce informed him swiftly, already telling Friday to send the god of thunder their way.

"As in the… the guy with the hammer. The god?"

"Yes, Nelson. But he's more of an alien than god," Tony hummed, manoeuvring his body from the lawyer's half-hearted grip.

With several deep breaths, Steve found himself relax. There was definitely no danger here. None of these people would harm him or anyone else, none of them posed a treat – no need to be alert. Just _calm down._

Except Steve sensed Thor coming. He could sense the vibrations of the floor as Thor's heavy boots were falling on it, the shuffle of his armour and most importantly, the air of danger around him. It felt as if the air was sparkling with electricity, prickles and lightning, almost assaulting the space.

Steve wasn't afraid of Thor – but he appreciated the majesty and the power of the god more than ever.

The door slid open, revealing the Asgardian in all his glory – or Steve supposed – and he marched in hurriedly.

"Holy shit," Foggy breathed out, his and Matt's hearts speeding up. Hell, even the strange device in Tony's chest sounded differently.

"Thor," Steve greeted him simultaneously with Bruce only to realize that he was not in his own body and Thor had no clue who he was.

Which led him to a simple question. Was here a connection between this whole 'I woke up in someone else's body' and Thor's appearance? Steve had a feeling it did.

"I come bearing unpleasant tiding. An Asgardian artefact has been activated on Earth-"

 _Oh. Now_ _ **that**_ _would make sense._

"Hello to you too, Drapes," Tony snarked, giving the god a pause in both speech and step. "And, you think?"

"My apologies. Hello, Stark. Doctor Banner. Captain. …humans."

Foggy choked on air, while Matt kept his composure despite the tension in his muscles. Steve cleared his throat as the god had been turned to his original body when greeting him.

"Hi, Thor. Would the artefact happen to cause… I don't know, exchange of bodies and minds?" Steve asked blatantly, not sure how to phrase it better.

He could immediately feel the air shift as the Asgardian turned to him.

"How would you know that, mortal?" Thor demanded, half-curious, half-threatening.

This time Matt spoke up. "Because he's Captain Rogers. I'm Matt Murdock."

Thor's head snapped to Steve's actual voice and then back. "Oh."

"Yeah, we know. I guess you see how that's a problem?" Tony hummed, the smartass he was.

"Yes."

There was a short silence, interrupted but Tony's impatient voice; Steve had a feeling Foggy would have beaten him to it if he hadn't been overtaken by a respectful awe and… fear.

"Good, care to elaborate? What is this artefact and how do we reverse its effect for instance?"

Thor seemed somewhat sheepish, but his voice held great confidence.

"The artefact is my brother's doing-"

"Of course it is…"

"-and it is meant as a jest. If you touch the artefact, its other half activates and lures another being to itself. When touched as well, the spirits shall exchange their hosts."

"Alright. So it's a very advanced prank. How do we reverse it?" Tony asked the burning question.

Thor shook his head. "You do not."

"WHAT?!" sounded unison from all presents minus the god, shock immediately falling on the room.

Steve's heart positively stopped – both his own and the body's he was occupying now.

' _You do not?' So we stay like this forever?! No!_

That was not an option! Steve was Steve and Matt was Matt and they both had duties, they both had their place in the world, they both had their life and in their current situation, there was no way they could just deal with switched bodies! Steve couldn't rush into battle blind with his other senses exploding and Matt sure as hell couldn't just walk into a courtroom as Steve Rogers to defence!

Not to mention Matt was running around like a vigilante, which… yeah, Steve had still several questions about that dubious activity – not that he would hold it against Matt. Steve of all people knew that sometimes rules and laws stood in the path of justice, as much as he hated it.

It was kinda funny though. A vigilante. An outlaw. And a lawyer. If the situation was less dreadful, Steve might even appreciate the irony, but that was _not_ the time and if Steve was about to be stuck in Matt's body forever, he everything but _appreciated_ it.

"You're telling me they can't go back to their own bodies?" Bruce clarified, sounding seriously on edge. Or Steve thought so – he was too busy freaking out on the inside and maybe a little on the outside too.

Yeah, Steve and Matt were definitely hyperventilating now.

And Thor laughed. To Steve, it sounded like a horse neighing right in his ear.

"Oh no, the effects wear off on their own. There is nothing you can do to speed it up, though."

Collective sigh of relief was the answer. Oh thank god. Thank _God._

"Way to give me a heart-attack, pal," Foggy huffed, his hand on his chest as if he wanted to make sure his heart was still beating in his ribcage. Steve would gladly confirm it was. He could _hear it_ , which he didn't find less insane than an hour ago.

Speaking of hearing heartbeats, Thor's actually did sound like a thunder.

"And you would be?"

"Foggy Nelson. Matt's best friend," the lawyer hurried, offering his hand to shake. Steve prayed the god didn't crush the poor man's fingers. Matt's/Steve's hand followed as he introduced himself again, but Thor's attention returned to the other man.

"Do you control the fog here on Midgard?" Thor asked, intrigued.

Steve's lips twitched, few silent snorts echoing in the room. Could anyone blame Thor for coming to that assumption?

Steve could hear blood rushing to Foggy's face in embarrassment. The longer Steve spent in the man's presence, the harder it was to resist the urge to call him Foggy; the nickname suited him, expressing his kind – and perhaps a bit goofy – nature perfectly.

"Uhm… no?"

"Ah. That is confusing."

Tony clapped his hands twice. "Great. Now what do we do? How long until they… go back?"

Steve believed that the strange movement he registered coming from Thor was a shrug of his monstrous shoulders.

"…well, it might take a while," the alien admitted slowly, sounding as if he was charming a carefree smile. "But do not be alarmed, it is harmless."

"Harmless? Really?! He's blind, Thor! He's literally blind!" Tony pointed at Matt's Murdock body impudently. "Imagine someone would attack him now – either his own body or the one he- wears!."

The face Steve _wore_ automatically twisted in a grimace at Tony's phrasing.

"Yeah, I second that! What if it wasn't me coming to the apartment in the morning?"

"Oh," Thor hesitated. "That might be inconvenient. I assume it is not customary to train blind men in combat on Earth then?"

Matt took a deep breath, his pulse wavering. For some reason, Steve's skin cringed. Strange. Another involuntary reaction of Matt's body to the discussed subject?

"In this particular case…" Steve heard his own voice whispered by Matt, drawing a tiny whimper from Foggy.

It took that tiny sound for Steve to understand this was possibly the worst topic ever, even though he had no idea what the story behind their reaction was. He cleared his throat.

"Well, clearly Matt's capable of protecting himself. But yeah, I would appreciate being back to myself too."

Matt took another steadying breath, trying to remain at least a bit calm. "Thor, how long is a while?"

"I am sorry, my friend, I do not know."

"I'm… not your friend, he is," Matt noted with a sigh, subtly pointing towards Steve in Matt Murdock's body. Only to be rewarded with Thor's confused deep voice.

"Of course you are. I am a friend to all humanity."

"That's very godlike of you," Foggy remarked. Steve (and probably Matt) shot him a glare. "What, that was funny! And true!"

Bruce cleared his throat, supressing laugh. "Okay. What do we do in the meantime? I don't think either of you should leave – mainly because of the security risks."

Steve gulped. He would fight until his/Matt's last breath if it came to it, but he couldn't argue with that logic.

"Alright. I don't have anywhere else to be for now."

"Well…" Matt considered slowly, turning to his law partner.

"Say no more, Murdock. As much as I would _love_ to see our clients' faces when it would be Captain America greeting them in the office, I do have some common sense left. I'll just call Karen to close the office for the day, okay?"

"Thanks, Fog. But… what if it's… more than a day? What if-"

"Forget 'what if's for now. I got your back, buddy." Foggy patted Matt's bicep in a friendly manner and then retreated his hand quickly as if he got burnt. "Sorry, Captain! Didn't mean to grope!"

The weird sound that followed was hard to identify – but it Steve could take a guess, it was Tony snorting the water he had helped himself with through his nose.

Steve's lips twitched in amusement at Foggy's embarrassment.

"It's alright. I know this is all very… confusing."

"Yeah, no kidding. And I'm just the one watching…" Foggy murmured under his breath, exiting the room to make a phone call. _"Yeah, Karen, it's me, look, we have a small issue with Matt waking up in Steve Rogers' body, yes,_ _ **that**_ _Steve Rogers aka Captain America's body-"_

"… _what?"_

Steve smiled for himself, trying to tune out the conversation outside of the room. He had a distant feeling that this Karen woman (based on the fact she apparently also knew about Matt Murdock's double life) was an exceptional employer and she definitely deserved a raise for dealing with… well, unnatural occurrences.

"So now we just sit and wait?" Matt stated more than asked.

Steve sighed.

Yeah, it looked like it. Steve _hated_ sitting and waiting. But right now, it was apparently the only option. Unless they wanted to make this even messier and hurt someone – starting with themselves.


	6. Mirror and mirage

**6\. Mirror and mirage**

Matt had a suspicion that Tony Stark liked to show off his wealth. He also thought that Bruce Banner definitely was more of a good host than anyone would expect from a man turning into a huge green monster (not that Matt could tell the colour).

With these two things combined, they ended up in what seemed to be a living room for all the Avengers, cups of coffee in front of themselves, Bruce talking in hushed voice with the other genius.

Foggy – after making sure it was okay for what could be four times – excused himself to the balcony so he could admire the marvellous view from the Tower. Matt was frankly sure he took a selfie. And Thor disappear god knew where, no pun intended.

Which left the captain and Matt alone, each of them sitting on a different couch. The silence wasn't particularly awkward, but neither it was comfortable.

It made Matt realize that he was probably the only one to perceive _silence_ in this situation. Which was really, really weird.

"How you're holding up, Captain?" he addressed Steve hesitantly and the man in question raised his head to him immediately.

He was still glasses-free, which meant Matt had the emotions served on a silver plate. It dawned to him that while for him personally the glasses shielded people from the uncomfortable sight of his unseeing eyes, they had much more important function. Matt wasn't sure if it was a Steve Rogers thing or Matt Murdock's face thing, but boy, thank god for the red lenses. They were a mask on their own.

"I'm fairly sure we can drop the titles, Mr. Murdock."

"Matt."

Steve extended his hand Matt's general direction. "Steve."

Matt chuckled as the absurdity and accepted the hand, this time trying to be wary of using too much force. To be honest, he was surprised how well was Steve coping. The supersoldier had been blinded and given terribly strong senses; he was holding himself incredibly well.

"You seem to be doing really well, Steve. How are you really?"

Matt was met with a sight of himself shrugging, his face once again revealing more than the simple gesture. _It's not easy,_ the expression said. _I'm fine,_ the gesture hinted. Strange dichotomy. Was it like this with him all the time?

"Well, I'm trying. It's… overwhelming."

Matt laughed humourlessly. "That's one way to say it."

"But… the Tower seems to muffle the noise of the city pretty well, rooms seemed rather soundproof. I can't imagine what it's like for you to live like this all the time…" he hesitated, as if he was reluctant to say more. "I… I think that… the body remembers a way to cope though. When Foggy came to the apartment… the world fell silent. Not completely, just… it… he grounded me."

Matt watched him struggling to explain the feelings, the soft note of awe and admiration in his voice, and couldn't help but relate – to the struggle, not the admiration. That part was just… unexpected. He wasn't used to people acting like this. Foggy could never understand, no matter how much he tried; and everyone else… it was just waves and waves of pity washing over him whenever he mentioned things weren't always easy; so as a rule, he tried his best not to.

But Steve seemed simply astonished. Matt wasn't sure how to respond to that. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Well, I guess there's something true about that. I… people help with that. If I can focus on something or someone, it gets easier. Foggy… he is a good thing to focus on. Just… please don't mention it in front of him."

Steve looked like he was considering the pros and cons for a minute – lying and keeping secrets versus the consequences of telling the truth – , and then nodded.

"Well, I'm just grateful. It's none of my business."

 _Lots of things aren't,_ Matt heard despite no more words spoken.

He smiled at Steve with relief and gratitude even though he knew the man couldn't see it. "Thanks, Steve."

The soft smile was thrown right back at him.

"What about you? How you're holding up? I'm not exactly… great at interpreting all the info I'm being offered…"

Matt huffed. "To be honest, I think I understand what you mean by the muscle memory thing. I knew Doctor Banner was a friend of some sort when he approached me. It's all… weird."

Matt knew he didn't need to say that he meant mainly the ability to see – Steve read between the lines.

"Imagine that," Steve hummed vaguely, lowering his sightless gaze.

"I guess I just want this to be over with," Matt admitted, feeling tiredness settle in his – Steve's – bones.

At that, Steve raised his head again, his eyes somewhat searching. Curious, but not noisy. Compassionate, but not pitying. _Understanding_ , Matt realized.

Steve opened his mouth several times without a sound coming out and then spoke in soft reluctant voice.

"I was given this opportunity to… to serve my country despite being sick most of my life and I…, finally be able to fight for what I believed was right was all I could want. I had something I could never hope to have. And after the transformation… I had this recurrent dream, almost every night – still have it sometimes. I wake up and… I'm back to my old self. It only gets worse with time. The longer I live like this… the worse the dream about relapsing is becoming. And it's not the fact itself that I'm small and helpless… it's that I am small and helpless _again."_

Matt's lips parted, releasing a shaky exhale under Steve's genuine eyes – well, his own, whatever. His heart was hammering in his ribcage, the world swaying off its place slightly.

How… how was he able to get to the very core of the problem? How— how could he know exactly the worst part? _Because he knows it,_ a tiny voice whispered in Matt's head. _He knows it._

Matt had no doubt Steve was telling the truth – and he finally understood what Foggy meant when saying Matt was a terrible liar, seriously, Matt Murdock's face screamed truth right now and it wasn't hard to imagine that _lie_ would be just as clear.

Matt fought against the lump in his throat, swallowing loudly.

"Yeah," he rasped, watching the corner of Steve's lips rise in a lopsided sad smile. "Yeah, I know exactly what you mean."

Or once, Matt was sure of his own feelings. He didn't hate the ability to see. He was in peace with not seeing too, for most part.

But he despised the limited period he was given the great opportunity, only to be robbed of it. _Again._

-.-.-

"So, I have an idea."

" _That can't be good,"_ Matt murmured under his breath, making Steve chuckle silently. In response, Matt's heart skipped a beat, probably not expecting to be heard.

Tony was oblivious to the note, so Steve assumed Matt truly spoke too low for anyone to hear it. Except for a guy with superhearing, who was now in the position of being surprise surprised by being heard. Steve thought that maybe, one day he would be able to truly laugh at that.

"It's very scientifically advanced so I'm gonna say it in plain English…" Foggy, Steve and Matt all held their breaths, while Bruce… Steve was pretty sure he rolled his eyes, even though he had no way of knowing that. "You should go to sleep."

"I beg your pardon?" Matt blurted out.

 _Yeah, what he said._ When had Steve zoned out enough to ignore Bruce and Tony talking anyway?

"Hey, I don't want to explain it in science talk-"

"There's zero 'science talk'. We just think that if the artefact affected you in sleep, it might activate again when your consciousness is in the same state as it was during the first exchange," Bruce cut him off and Steve could feel the shuffle of air as Tony gave his friend an annoyed look.

"Now you're just oversimplifying-"

"Tony, that was a thinking of a five year old reading enough fairy tales-"

"I don't think I can fall asleep now and like this," Matt sighed, interrupting the bicker.

"I kinda agree," Steve confirmed hesitantly.

"Yeah, well, in this century, we have those things called sleeping-pills," Tony informed them sassily and Steve crossed his arms on his chest. Yeah, sure, except he would need a dose for an elephant. Or, well, Matt would need it. Steve's actual body would. _Whatever_.

"I don't like drugs."

"Yeah, drugs are bad," Foggy stated and Steve knew he crossed his arms as well. "I mean… he really doesn't like it."

"It messes with me for days. Call it oversensitivity…" Matt explained reluctantly, his voice sheepish and clearly uncomfortable.

"Yeah, well…"

Too late, Steve smelled something that set all alarm bells in his head off. It was a strange smell, artificial, making his stomach turn up. Before he could locate the source, he felt a sting on his neck. His hand immediately went to cover the place, strange warmth spreading through his body.

"HEY!" three voices protested loudly and Steve's world swayed. His fingers touched a small object sticking from his skin, pulling it out with another sting.

With mind cloudy and his limbs swimming, he identified it painfully slowly. A tranquillizer arrow.

Tony had never meant to ask them if they _wanted_ to go to sleep. Of course he hadn't.

Steve didn't even manage to curse. The world turned upside down and the last words he heard were 'sorry pal, you'll need like ten of these.'

And then the world went silent.

-.-.-

"When I wake up – if I'm gonna wake up like myself again –, I'm gonna ask someone to punch you," Matt growled, watching his own body crumbled on the couch. That son of a bitch-

Tony Stark didn't even have the courtesy to look guilty and shrugged.

"Sure thing, DD. Or MMM? Gotta love these alliterations. Anyway, you might wanna sit down again. It sucks to drag Cap's body somewhere. Lots of muscles. Which is why we need to give you so much. Fast metabolism and shit."

"Matt, I volunteer," Foggy informed him stiffly and it took Matt a moment to realize what 'call to arms' Foggy was responding to.

"I think I'll just find him when my senses are back too normal and hit him myself. It would be more satisfying," Matt hissed, but sat down on the couch, getting ready to be dosed with what would probably be enough medication to bring down a horse. Or an elephant. Or the whole _herd_ of elephants.

"Kinky."

"Tony, please…" Doctor Banner cooled down his sassy friend, his hand massaging the bridge of his nose. "Just… do it, since you already set the plan in motion without, you know, _asking_ for permission."

"Non-consensual drug use. You're drugging him against his will. Matt, you can have the punch. I'll just sue his ass off."

Despite the annoyance and anger, Matt couldn't help but grin at his best friend's note.

"You just got yourself a deal, counsellor."

"Cute. Now sweet dreams, Cinderella."

"I'm pretty sure that was Sleeping Beauty…" Matt murmured and it was the last coherent sentence he was able to say, because next thing he knew, he felt several stings, warmth enveloped him in a blanket and his eyelids started feeling too heavy. He couldn't fight the natural response of Steve's body and his own – it didn't want to yield.

On the other hand, the amount of drugs that had just been pumped into him was way too much to handle.

Foggy was kind enough to hover over him; so it was him what Matt potentially saw as the last thing and not the smirk on Tony Stark's face.

And then… darkness greeted him like an old friend, painting everything in black.

Still, he could hear the annoying voice of the billionaire. "Well, at least he admitted he was a princess…"

-.-.-.-.-.-.-  
Notes:  
So, I just realized there was no woman in this fic aside from Karen on the phone. I'm gonna suffer from testosterone intoxication and you might too, so sorry for that :D

Anyway, last part ahead, folks!

P.S. I'm sorry if you're disappointed. I know I could have let Steve fight blind and supersensed, could have let Matt see Karen and anything really. It was just not where I was heading with this (I wanted to try a different perspective, I've written a 'Matt can see' fic the other way before) and I hope you can forgive me. Also, it's totally Tony's fault anyway, he rushed with the tranquilizers…


	7. In my own skin

**7\. In my own skin**

Steve Rogers' eyes snapped open, greeted by grey. A grey of the ceiling, softened by warm yellow light of a nearby lamp.

Steve Rogers woke up and he saw. He blinked several times, his eyelids slightly heavier than usual, probably the effect of the tranquilizers, his lips feeling like made of lead. Yet, they managed to form three words.

"Oh, thank god," he whispered, running his hand down his face and pushing himself up to a sitting position.

"Nope, just foggy," a voice on his right informed his swiftly. A horrified inhale followed. "Shit, sorry, knee-jerk reaction."

Steve quickly looked at the man. He was a bit chubby, beige suit, blond rather long hair, inviting smile. Steve thought he was familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

Yeah, things did feel a bit foggy, but that could not have been what the stranger was imply- right. "Right. Foggy… Hi."

"Am I talking to-"

"Steve," he assured him, making the lawyer grin victoriously.

"Right. Welcome back, Cap," Foggy saluted with two fingers, making the soldier smile.

"That's what the president said," Tony joined them in the couch area and Steve's smile widened despite the fact he should probably be annoyed. Who would think that seeing Stark's face would be an actual pleasure. "At least the Smithsonian claims it. And if you ever bring up the fact I was there ever again, I'll deny it. I was only there to draw you a moustache."

"Hey, Tony."

"Hey, Cap. How many fingers?" the billionaire asked cheekily, holding three fingers in front of Steve's face, switching to four just as Steve opened his mouth to humour him. So he closed it again. "What, cat got your tongue? Are you mute this time around?"

Steve sighed and made a disapproving face at Tony, feeling Foggy's sharp glare even without looking at the lawyer. "Tune it down, Tony. You're being insensitive."

Tony raised both of his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Sorry. You know I don't mean it. My heart's in the right place."

"You deal with this all the time?" Foggy asked while Steve just shook his head at Tony, who knocked on the device in his chest gently.

"Yes."

"Respect, Sir," Foggy mumbled and returned his gaze to the figure lying on the other couch.

Steve smiled unwittingly at the care Foggy was expressing by guarding his friend and protecting his honour in the process; and from Steve's experience, also by telling him with no restraint when he was being an idiot when needed. Steve knew that kind of friendships – he had a friend like that to, always by his side, no matter how much trouble he had got himself into.

To silence the pang of guilt and longing, he looked back at Tony; despite him being an arrogant human being at times, he was a friend too.

"I'm fine. But since you mentioned it… I can't believe I'm saying this, but now when I can't hear your heartbeats, I feel almost deaf."

"You were able to hear a heartbeat?!" Bruce's shocked voice sounded from behind him, almost making Steve jump out of his skin, while Tony raised a curious eyebrow, commenting on his own: "You can bond with Barton over that."

Steve couldn't help himself; he just rolled his eyes.

"Anyway. How about some calories? You must be-" the grumble of Steve's stomach cut Bruce off and as if on command, one of the specially designed post-mission drinks landed in the table in front of him.

"Thank you, Bruce."

"One of us has to be a good host."

"Aaand that's my cue to leave," Tony uttered, making a U-turn and disappearing from the room.

"He's something."

Steve snorted, relaxing onto the backrest and sipped the green semi-solid drink, grateful he couldn't taste every ingredient and god knew what, which he would be able to in Matt's body.

"He's a friend… no one is easy to handle. I'm sorry about his manners."

It was Foggy's turn to snort in amusement. "Matt would probably encourage him. He makes way too much blind jokes. Dork."

No one could possibly miss the fond smile Foggy sent Matt's direction. Steve's heart ached a little at that, missing his own friend again. This time, he didn't resist.

"You're a good friend, Foggy."

"That's gonna mean something, coming from Captain America himself," the lawyer hummed, hiding a hint of red on his ears by letting his hair fall into his face.

"I'm sure he appreciates it. Take it from a guy who needed someone to pull his stupid arse from trouble more times that I can count."

Foggy looked up shyly, clearly as pleased as uncomfortable. "Well, someone has to."

"I absolutely agree. Steve, how do you really feel?" Bruce entered the conversation, picking up on Foggy's uneasiness as well.

"I feel… like me."

-.-.-

Matt Murdock woke up to a terrible noise of three heartbeats, breaths, low voices and buzzing of the city deep below, smell of something that could not be food and yet he could taste it on his tongue, the scent mixed with a bit of sweat, deodorants and shampoos, leather and coffee. The said leather felt hot under his back, slick and yet harsh against his skin, the cotton shirt and slacks feeling like an assault on his mechanoreceptors.

All those sensations melted together, already helping to build a headache. _Lovely_.

He didn't even have to open his eyes to know he was back to his own body. Yet, he commanded the heavy eyelids to check.

Nothing. Darkness. A wildly dancing image that had nothing to do with vision. The world was on fire as it should be.

He could tell the number of people in the room, he could identify one of them as Foggy even, yet, the picture in his head was so messy, scrambled by the fucking pain-meds, that he couldn't locate his friend. Which was why it startled him so much when he spoke up.

"Hey, buddy. How bad is it?"

Matt winced, probably giving an answer on its own. He couldn't supress a groan as the world was getting even louder and less bearable each second he was involuntarily walking towards full consciousness – without being able to control the input.

"That good, huh?"

"Yeah, I'd be better if you knocked me out again," Matt rasped.

A bottle of water was immediately pressed into his hand in response. He pushed up so he could take a sip. The whole world swam, loud tide waves washing over him, slowly drowning him. Oh _jeez_. What had he done do to deserve that? He was so gonna punch Stark for the tranquilizers…

He forced himself to open the bottle, trying his best to ignore the plastic he could taste from it. But god, it flooded his taste buds with so many chemicals he could cry – or spit out the water. He didn't, he was _stronger than that_.

"Thanks. I'll be… fine, just… gimme a minute."

"You want me to stay?" Foggy asked, lowering his voice. The remaining two people walked away, the vibration of the floor rattling Matt's bones.

He was glad they left, even with the little earthquake it brought on. To be honest, Matt needed Foggy out as well. Focusing on him usually helped, but now, all he needed was as much silence he could get.

"No. Please. I… meditation might help a little."

If Foggy picked up on the hesitation and shame in Matt's voice, he didn't mention it. He reached out to Matt to pat his shoulder, but stopped two inches away; Matt could still feel the heat radiating from his friend's palm, but was grateful he didn't go for it. Perhaps he should give Foggy more credit when it came to understanding his senses than he did.

"Sure thing, buddy. I'll be right- with the others. Do you want a room for yourself?"

Despite feeling like his head was in a hive, squeezed in a vice _and_ being placed on a ship in the middle of the raging sea, Matt charmed a smile – or he tried to do so. He was whispering, when he spoke.

"That would be really nice."

"You got it. I'll be guarding the door with my life," Foggy promised, the thunder of his heartbeat not faltering. The buzz in Matt's brain tuned down for a split second, filled with affection instead of the sensory overload.

"Please don't. They are aliens, supersoldiers and other whatever. Can't lose you to that _squad_."

Matt felt blood rush into his cheeks right after the sentence left his mouth, but he couldn't find himself to regret it. He was in the whole room at once, his consciousness all over the place, incredibly messy, but one thing was clear as day. He appreciated Foggy's care. Maybe, he should let him know more often.

-.-.-

Steve was biting the inside of his cheek as he watched Foggy's expression of perfectly faked understanding. Tony had taken him for a tour through the Tower, specifically labs, and then moved onto Avengers' gear, explaining all the 'cool stuff'. Judging by Foggy's excitement, he was fascinated by all the toys, even though he understood even less than Steve; but hell, he was too proud to admit it until the tour ended.

When Friday announced through the speakers that Mr. Murdock requested she informed them he was quite settled and ready to welcome people back in the room, they didn't hesitate. Foggy was the first to come in, followed by Steve and only then the two geniuses.

They found Matt standing by the couch, turned their direction – just the fact he was standing must have meant a lot if the state he had been in when Steve and Bruce had emerged from the room was anything to go by. This looked like a big improvement – key word: looked.

"Feel better?" Steve asked lowly, examining the blind man, who had somehow managed to find his glasses and slip them on.

"Good enough for not wanting to be knocked out, bad enough for not trying to punch Stark just yet," Matt said wittily, making exactly three people in the room smirk.

"Should I just leave or— oh wait, this is my building, so if you mind me being here…" Tony hummed, earning a stereo groan from Steve and Bruce.

"Stark, Steve, Doctor Banner… where is Thor then?"

"Oh, Thor flew away. It was _supercool_. The other part of the artefact appeared – probably when you switched back – and he just took it in this super-secret-government container and… yeah, flew away. Sorry you missed that," Foggy spilled out in hurry, his enthusiasm not unlike Steve was used to see on children's faces when meeting him. Matt must have picked up on it, because his smile widened.

"I think I'll live. I guess you'll just have to remind me of that often enough."

"I don't think that will be a problem," Bruce noted with a kind smile and handed Matt a cup of the 'green special' Steve had received after waking up. "Try this unless it offends your taste too much. High protein, high carb, lots of ions and generally the good stuff. It might even help with burning out the drugs you've been dosed with."

"Hey, we didn't agree on getting him one. What if he's feeling good enough to punch me after? Way to be a friend, Bruce!"

Matt scrunched his nose when smelling the drink up-close, but obediently took a sip, accepting the wordless dare. Despite the slightly disgusted face he made, he continued. Steve started to understand his street name.

Foggy cleared his throat, looking around. "So… what happens now?"

Steve wavered. Honestly, he had a million questions for Matt – starting with the ones about his senses, which might be more than inappropriate and none of his business, ending with moral ones, which included asking about what had led to his decision to start the part-time job as a vigilante, which belonged to the category of things Matt probably wasn't up to answering right now.

So Steve said the only thing he could think off. He took a leap of faith, deciding to hope Matt would stay in touch somehow (read: via them visiting his apartment or office if it came to that) and to let him leave with no feeling of owing anything to them. But there was something he needed to do first.

"I believe someone asked for an autograph…?"

Steve didn't need to hear heartbeats to know Foggy's just skipped a beat in joy – his expression spoke volumes, no matter how much he tried to stay contained.

"That would be _awesome_ , Captain."

It didn't end with an autograph. They took a photo too. They took one with reluctant Matt as well – the vigilante ruined all Foggy's fun when he forbade framing it and hanging it in the office.

"But, Matt! Clients!"

"But, Foggy! Too many questions!" Matt mimicked, but had enough decency to look guilty about making his friend's face fall.

"Alright. But the selfie is my new lockscreen. You can't take that away!"

Steve wasn't sure what lockscreen was – he hoped it wasn't anything that would embarrass him too much. Matt's lips twitched, which actually worried Steve a little.

"Not sure Marci will like that."

"She'll understand," Foggy muttered and took selfie with Tony as well as with Bruce, who seemed quite uncomfortable, but didn't have the heart to disappoint the excited lawyer – how typical of him. He excused himself right after.

Foggy and Matt looked genuinely surprised and grateful when Steve announced his intention to let them leave whenever they wanted, no questions asked. Tony, on the other hand, appeared to be ready to punch the supersoldier to his face, but didn't protest, clearly already planning a surprise visit to the office; Steve immediately felt sorry, especially for Karen.

"We'll be in touch – I'll make sure of it," Foggy assured them, shaking Steve's hand for probably longer than was socially acceptable. Steve didn't mind, if only because it irritated Tony. To be fair, he received the same treatment afterwards.

"See you around, Steve. Soon, Mr. Stark," Matt threw over his shoulder when he was entering the elevator on Foggy's arm, grinning as the door was closing.

"You're terrible," Steve heard Foggy huff and that was the end of it.

Steve felt strange lightness in his soul, blaming the enthusiastic blonde for it. The world needed more people like him. Matt needed him for sure. Despite the warmth, Steve couldn't help but worry about the vigilante though.

"We should keep an eye on him. I have a feeling he has no self-preservation."

"Consider it done, Cap. And you know that behaviour sounds familiar, right?"

Steve smiled for himself, ignoring Tony's nudge. "Well, at least he has good friends to take care of him."

"Cheesy, Steven," Tony hummed when he realized the analogy, but Steve had a feeling it pleased him anyway.

He didn't call him out on it though. After all, some things were better left unsaid; yet, it didn't mean they weren't true.

 _Feeling's usually mutual. Yeah, Tony. I care about you too._

"Whatever you say, Stark. I'll be in the gym. I feel like I need to burn some of the tranquilizers you shot me with before…"

"You're welcome!" Tony shouted after him as Steve just waved at him blindly, making his way to his room to change.

 _Yeah. I know._

-.-.-

Exiting the Tower with relieved sigh, Matt leaned onto Foggy a bit more.

"Thanks for putting up with this," Matt whispered into the cold of the night and heard Foggy's heartbeat falter. It made him frown. "Foggy? What's wrong? I'll be fine, I mostly already am. _We'_ ll be fine. Hell, Tony Stark even promised to get us better heating to the office. How many people can say that?"

Foggy gulped, his cheeks burning up. Oh god, what?

"You wanna know what's wrong, Matt?"

"Yes, of course. Talk to me, Fog."

Foggy took a deep breath, more blood rushing to his cheeks. "Please don't laugh, but… I really made an idiot of myself."

"When? You were great the whole time. You were a good friend to me. You apparently even helped me get dressed! Kinda me…" Matt corrected himself, not bothering to clarify, knowing Foggy understood what he meant. But he was only rewarded with silence; he was getting worried, to be honest. "Foggy?"

"Matt… I called Captain America a duffus."

Matt was silent for a split second and then he burst out laughing, stopping in his tracks in order to throw his head back.

"I asked you not to laugh!" Foggy hissed, squirming in embarrassment and it only made Matt laugh harder. Foggy slapped his arm. "You _jerk!"_

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

"No you're not…"

"No, I'm not. He didn't seem to hate you for it. And to be fair, my hand punched his face, so I think that from the two of us…"

That seemed to calm Foggy down and he let Matt take his elbow for guidance again. "Okay. Thanks. I think you actually _were_ worse. We're menaces, Murdock."

"Yeah, Fog. We sure are. Earth's mightiest menances."

Matt could hear a grin in Foggy's voice when he spoke again. "Best damn avocados."

"Best damn avocados- oh, that reminds me. So, I heard you agreed it was a fruit-"

"Shut up, Murdock…"

" _Captain America_ told me that-"

"Blah, blah, blah-"

"You're such a child-…"

Their laughter echoed in the streets of Manhattan and despite the insanity of that day… Matt thought that life was good.

-.-.-

A week later, Tony Stark received an envelope he would never expect to receive.

It wasn't particularly unusual for the billionaire to get sued – hell, he often was on the receiving end of everyone's fury when it came to the damage the Avengers had made _(please note, the blessed Captain America was never blamed, how outraging)_ -, but being sued for drugging someone wasn't exactly daily occurrence. Neither was the complaint about the ADA incompliance of the Avengers Tower.

The first set of documents was signed _Nelson._ Naturally, the latter held the name _Murdock_ , or Tony guessed so, because it was hard to decode the scribbled letters.

He couldn't believe they had actually done it. He had honestly thought they all of their threats had been only a joke. Clearly, they had been deadly serious.

So if he took off – quite literally – the moment Friday announced that Matt Murdock entered the building, supposedly to have a training session with the American Golden Boy, no one could blame him.

Yet, it didn't mean Matt didn't laugh his ass off when the AI informed him of Sir's departure. It seemed that the genius would have to wait and the only person punched by Matt Murdock's fist today would be Steve Rogers.

But that was okay. Matt would love to wait for his moment and it would get only sweeter.

-.-.-.-  
Notes:  
Just FYI, some of you noticed/know EN is not my first language. Matt had a brilliant line to Foggy: "Yeah, I'd be better if you knocked me up again." I re-read it at least three times before it hit me just how much the course of the entire fic would change if I missed it and left it that way.

Aaaanyway, thank you all for reading, you are amazing :))

Thank you for all the favs and follows of the story. Thank you for all the lovely reviews, particularly to Random Flyer, zoepeanut and SarahDrav3n, your constant support kept me going


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